


Better With You

by WordsInTimeAndSpace



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Demisexual Crowley (Good Omens), Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Secret Relationship, lockdown - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:14:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24508972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsInTimeAndSpace/pseuds/WordsInTimeAndSpace
Summary: Due to a petty feud between their respective department heads, Crowley and Aziraphale have been hiding their friendship for months. When they’re suddenly stuck in lockdown amidst a pandemic, Crowley is not coping well. Thankfully, Aziraphale is there for him - but their changing relationship means that keeping secrets from their bosses only becomes more of a challenge.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 92
Kudos: 198





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, I really did not expect to write a lockdown AU, but I needed some self-indulgent hurt/comfort to cope with all this... so here we are. This will probably be 5 chapters, with the M rating applying only for the end of chapter 4. I have a good chunk of this written already, so I'll try to update every Tuesday.
> 
> This is a human AU where Crowley and Aziraphale are working for some kind of IT company. I honestly have no idea what they're doing exactly (except that Crowley does the coding while Aziraphale deals with the clients) or if this is how IT companies actually work, but I don't think it's that important for this story so I hope no one will mind. :)

Crowley stared down at the pen he was balancing between his fingers, and imaged all the countless ways he could use it to get Gabriel to shut up right this second. For once he was glad that Gabriel was usually too self-absorbed to pay any attention to a code monkey like him - he had no doubt that not even his sunglasses were hiding his murderous fantasies, if the concerned glances Aziraphale kept shooting at him every now and then were anything to go by.

“So,” Gabriel finally concluded, clasping his hands in front of his chest, “if you could get that feature done by Friday, that would be great. The client is waiting.”

His condescending smile made Crowley’s blood boil, and Beelzebub let out an angry buzzing beside him. For a second Crowley thought they would leap over the conference table to strangle Gabriel until the bloody smile was finally gone from his irritating face. Crowley would pay good money to see that, but instead Beelzebub just shot up from their chair and slammed their fists down on the table.

“Absolutely not,” Beelzebub snarled. “That’s impozzible. Do you have any idea how much work that is if you don’t consider it at the beginning of a project?!”

Gabriel let out a huff, but otherwise didn’t falter. “Come on,” he said casually, as if he wasn’t just confronted with the fury of one of the most feared people in their company. “The lot of you down there in engineering should be a bit more flexible.”

“And the lot of you in client relations should actually do your job,” Beelzebub hissed. “You discuss these parts with the client right at the beginning, not one week before the deadline.”

“Listen, the client is the highest power in this company, and if they want this feature, they’re going to get it.”

Beelzebub apparently didn’t have an answer to that, because the client _was_ the highest power, as annoying as that was. But that didn’t mean they backed down from glaring at Gabriel, fury and disdain radiating off them in waves. The tension in the room made Crowley’s skin crawl. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, glancing from Gabriel to Beelzebub and back, until his gaze finally met Aziraphale’s.

Aziraphale sat quietly beside Gabriel, nervously wringing his hands in front of his belly and looking downright miserable. Since both their bosses were still too busy glowering at each other, Crowley screwed up his face and rolled his eyes at him.

Aziraphale’s lips twitched as he tried to suppress a laugh. His eyes gleamed in a way that made Crowley’s heart skip a beat, but as soon as Aziraphale turned his attention back to the conversation the last bit of his smile was gone.

“Umm,” Aziraphale started hesitantly, wincing as both Gabriel and Beelzebub suddenly fixed their gaze on him. “We could ask the client for an extension of the deadline. I’m sure they will be understanding. They did apologize for making last minute requests after all.”

Gabriel’s face grew stern as he now glared at Aziraphale instead of Beelzebub, and Crowley quickly jumped into the discussion before he could open his mouth and all the despicable things that must be running through his head could tumble out.

“We could, ah, maybe reuse some code from the project last month,” he started, shooting a nervous glance at Beelzebub. “Shouldn’t be too complicated to adapt, yeah? Could be done in two weeks. Three, maybe.”

For a moment Crowley thought Beelzebub might rip his head off for accommodating Gabriel, who was most definitely the enemy in their opinion, along with all the others working in client relations. But then their face relaxed just the tiniest bit. 

“Fine,” they hissed. “If you get us that extension.”

Gabriel didn’t look too happy, but then he nodded. “Fine. Aziraphale will take care of it.”

Beelzebub rushed out of the room as soon as they were done. Crowley hoped to get a minute with Aziraphale, but Gabriel barked at him to follow when he turned to leave, and all Crowley got was the apologetic look Aziraphale threw over his shoulder right before they vanished around the corner. Crowley let out a long sigh, picked up his pen and notebook and trotted back down to his office.

The engineering department was in the basement, a bit too dark even for Crowley’s sensitive eyes. It always felt a bit too damp, a bit too cold to be comfortable. Crowley passed the posters on the walls, both the ominous “don’t lick the walls” posters he was used to and the newer, slightly unsettling “wash your hands” ones, until he reached his office and slumped back into his chair. The hand hygiene posters with their red, bold letters had been up for a week now, ever since the whole virus situation was getting a bit more serious. It made Crowley nervous, although London seemed to be safe so far. He knew that he should probably check the news more often than he actually did, but he also didn’t feel like he had any mental energy to deal with that sort of the thing at the moment. Meetings with Beelzebub and Gabriel always left him drained.

But no matter how bad a meeting had been, there was always one single person in this blasted company who could make him feel better. It was just what he needed right now.

Crowley fished his phone out of his pockets and opened his contacts. Right at the top was the person he was looking for: Angel. A nickname he had proposed one evening after too much wine had made him bold for once. It still made Crowley’s stomach flutter every time he read it. And beside of that, it served its purpose: no one would know that Crowley was consorting with the enemy, if anyone in the office would ever catch a glimpse of his screen.

Crowley sent a text: _‘How about Vietnamese for lunch? My treat.’_

The answer came just a minute later, but Crowley still jumped in his chair, his heart skipping a beat in anticipation.

 _‘Our usual place?’_ Aziraphale wrote.

_‘Sure. Wherever you want, angel.’_

_‘Temptation accomplished.’_

Crowley, who usually tried very hard to keep his reputation as a sleek bastard among his colleagues, couldn’t help but smile.

* * *

The prospect of seeing Aziraphale was way too distracting for Crowley to get any real work done for the rest of the morning. It had been a while since they’d met properly. It had only been polite nods in the corridors or annoying small talk in the elevator in the last few days, apart from the blasted meeting with their insufferable supervisors. Usually they met once a week for lunch, but both of them had been busy recently, and Crowley rarely had time for more than a sandwich scarfed down in the break room.

Crowley let out a sigh of relief when it was finally lunchtime and hurried to grab his jacket to get out of the building. Their usual place was a tiny restaurant a few streets over, so hidden between the large chain restaurants that they didn’t have to worry about running into their bosses or colleagues in there. Crowley had passed it two times a day for months on his way to work, but he had never even noticed it until Aziraphale had suggested it as their secret lunch spot, gushing over the delectable pho.

Aziraphale was already there when he entered, occupying a small table in one corner that shielded them from the view of the few other patrons. He was focused on the menu, reading glasses perched on his nose, but immediately looked up as Crowley approached. His lips curled into a smile so bright that it made Crowley’s head swim. Looking at Aziraphale’s smile was like staring into the sun, sometimes, filling him with such a warmth that Crowley feared he would burn one day.

“There you are, my dear,” Aziraphale said. “I was afraid Beelzebub would have pulled you into yet another meeting.”

Crowley snorted, sprawling into the chair opposite from Aziraphale and blushing faintly as his eyes seemed to follow every movement of Crowley’s too long limbs. “No, thankfully not. I think they had enough after that spat with Gabriel to deal with any more idiots today, including me.”

“You’re hardly an idiot,” Aziraphale tutted.

Crowley let out a sigh, letting his head loll back. “I must be, working in that hellhole,” he muttered.

From behind the menu, Aziraphale gave him another disapproving look. “Now you’re just being dramatic.”

“ _I’m_ dramatic?! When it’s Gabriel and Beelzebub who have declared themselves mortal enemies, even though they work for the same bloody company?”

“Well…” Aziraphale tilted his head, considering.

“Really, angel, how could I not be dramatic in response to that? This whole thing is ridiculous. We’re hiding that we’re going for lunch together, for Heaven’s sake!”

“You do have a point, my dear, but-”

“It’s not even against the company policies!” Crowley continued, too agitated to stop himself. “I mean, we’re friends, it’s not that we’re da-” Crowley managed to snap his mouth shut before any more words could tumble out. 

_Dating_ , that’s what he’d been about to say, but he couldn’t bring these words over his lips. It was a train of thought Crowley very much did not want to follow, because it only ended in the conclusion that he definitely did want to date Aziraphale. Wanted to hold his hand and wrap his arms around his middle and maybe kiss his pretty pink lips-

Aziraphale cleared his throat, pulling Crowley out of his thoughts before he could get to even more dangerous territories. A faint blush coloured Aziraphale’s cheeks. “Well,” he started, his voice a little wobbly. “I agree that it can be… inconvenient. But it’s probably better this way, for now. Can you imagine Gabriel’s mocking if he ever finds out?”

It stung a little, Aziraphale’s words. That meeting him was inconvenient. That being with Crowley was actually something worth mocking, and that Aziraphale cared enough about the wanker’s opinion to hide it. The hurt must have shown on his face, despite the glasses still obscuring his eyes, because Aziraphale’s face fell. He reached for Crowley’s hand on the table, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I didn’t mean it like that. And every bit of inconvenience is more than worth it, my dear, if I get to spend time with you,” Aziraphale reassured him with a such a soft smile that it made Crowley’s eyes sting.

“Thanks,” Crowley managed to croak out, distracted by the gentle brush of Aziraphale’s thumb on the back of his hand. They had never touched before, not properly, intentionally like this. Aziraphale’s skin was warm and soft against his own. The caress sent a shiver down his spine, right to his toes, and Crowley let out a shuddering breath. Christ, if he was already this affected by such a small touch, what a wreck must he be when Aziraphale got his hands on him properly?

Crowley shook his head, banishing the thought before it could get him into any more trouble. Suddenly too shaken to bear the gentle touch any longer, he snatched his hand away and grabbed the menu so quickly he nearly knocked over his glass of water.

“D’you already know what you want to eat?” he started babbling, eyes wandering over the menu without taking in any of the information. “The dumplings were good last time, yeah?”

He felt Aziraphale’s piercing gaze on him, and for a second Crowley thought he wouldn’t get away with the sudden change of topic. But then Aziraphale pulled his hand back, leaned back in his chair and interlaced his fingers on top of his belly.

“I was thinking more of the cao lau this time,” he hummed.

Crowley let out a breath. “Sounds good,” he croaked.

The conversation flowed easily, as it always did with Aziraphale, once they’d ordered their lunch and steered away from any dangerous topics. Crowley relaxed as the meal went on, his nerves soothed by Aziraphale’s quick wit and humour, all the things that had drawn him to the other man ever since they’d gotten to know each other properly. It had taken just another argument between Gabriel and Beelzebub for that, a petty fight that forced them both to work late one evening, scrambling to overhaul a project just days before the deadline. They had quickly realized that they got things done quicker if they worked together, and also discovered that they genuinely liked each other’s company. 

Ever since there had been hushed conversations, secret lunches, and occasionally, when Crowley was very, very lucky, a few drinks after a long day at work in Aziraphale’s cosy living room, where Crowley would lounge on the couch and Aziraphale would sit in the armchair, both of them surrounded by too many books to count.

Crowley didn’t even remember when exactly he’d fallen in love with Aziraphale. Maybe he had been right from the beginning, and every word, every look from Aziraphale over the past few months had just pushed him one step closer to damnation. It didn’t help that sometimes, Aziraphale would look at him just so, or say things that would make hope bloom in Crowley’s chest, both sweet and suffocating.

“We could, ah… maybe go for dinner on Friday after work? How do you feel about sushi?” Aziraphale said at the end of their meal, just when he was about to leave - a few minutes before Crowley, of course, because surely Hell would freeze over if they walked into work together for once. “It’s going to be a busy week, and I suppose we could both use a little treat by then?”

Crowley stared at him for a long moment before his useless brain finally comprehended Aziraphale’s words. His stomach swooped, because while they were used to going for lunch during their breaks, dinner was new and brought so many new possibilities that it made Crowley’s head swim. “Sure. Sounds good, angel,” he finally managed to get out, and Aziraphale beamed at him like Crowley had hung the stars.

“Wonderful,” Aziraphale cood, patting Crowley’s hand one more time before he got up. “I’ll look forward to seeing you, my dear.”

* * *

As it turned out, they did not see each other on Friday. Crowley had finally managed to read the news that afternoon, scrolling through the headlines with growing anxiety, but he was an optimist at the core and still didn’t expect the turn of events crashing down on him in the following week. London wasn’t as safe as he thought, and neither was the rest of the world. On Wednesday, all restaurants closed for the foreseeable future, including Aziraphale’s favourite sushi bar. On Thursday, chaos and panic broke loose as a co-worker from another floor that Crowley barely knew tested positive and half the workforce was put into quarantine. On Friday, instead of meeting up with Aziraphale after work, Crowley was officially and indefinitely banished to working from home. He spent the day in his uncomfortable designer chair in his too dark living room, staring at the wall as he tried to wrap his head around the situation and wondered what he had done to deserve things going so very wrong just another time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the "I'm projecting my working from home feelings onto Crowley" part, so he's having a bit of a hard time. I still want the focus of this story to be more on the comfort side instead of the hurt, so I promise it already gets better at the end of this chapter.
> 
> Some parts of the dialogue are from the Good Omens lockdown special.

When Crowley’s alarm rang, he didn’t even bother to open his eyes. He blindly fumbled for his phone to turn it off and rolled over, pressing his face into the pillow as if that could prevent him from facing just another day in self isolation. It was day 45… or was it 46? Crowley let out a sigh as he realized he’d already lost count. Not that it was surprising - all days just blurred together lately.

Crowley thought about getting up, but his body refused to move. Buried under his blankets, he could at least pretend for a little while longer that everything was okay, soaking in the little comfort the warmth and softness gave him. For a while, he drifted off again, until his alarm rang again, abruptly pulling him back into consciousness.

This time, Crowley actually cracked one eye open to glance at the screen. He swore as he took in the time and leaped out of bed so quickly it left him dizzy. In a rush, he put on the next best shirt he could find, pulled his unkempt hair into a bun and made a cup of coffee before slumping in front of his laptop. He was five minutes late to the daily meeting with Beelzebub and the rest of the team, but thankfully, they only glared at him for a second and didn’t bother to point it out. It was hardly the first time in the last few weeks.

He’d been doing quite well for a little while, Crowley thought as he half listened to Beelzebub going into the details of a new project. He’d gotten out of bed on time, managed to get his work done, cooked dinner in the evening and continued his Golden Girls rewatch until it was time for bed all over again. It had been fine. A bit boring, but nothing he couldn’t deal with. At some point though things had gotten off the rails, and from there it had gone downhill so quickly as if he’d been doing a freestyle dive into a pool of boiling sulphur.

“Crowley,” Beelzebub growled at some point, pulling Crowley out of his thoughts. He sat up a little straighter. That he could only see Beelzebub’s face on a tiny computer screen didn’t make his supervisor any less intimidating.

“Yeah?” Crowley asked, hoping he hadn’t missed anything crucial.

“I expect you to join the meeting with Gabriel later today. _Don’t_ be late this time.”

Crowley’s heart made a pathetic leap in his chest. He hadn’t really caught what the meeting was about, but there was always a good chance that someone else from client relations was there as well. Nevertheless, Crowley desperately tried not to get his hopes up. He hadn’t worked with Aziraphale since their last project was wrapped up. Instead, he’d been dealing with _Sandalphon_ of all people, as if he hadn’t been suffering enough already. He wasn’t quite sure if he could take that today, but it was not like he had a choice when there was a job to do.

“Sure,” he finally managed to get out just before everyone logged off.

Crowley let out a weary sigh, running a hand down his face. He downed his coffee, and tried to get to work.

* * *

He managed to get through his emails in just under an hour, but as soon as he pulled up the code he as working on, his exhaustion caught up on him. His brain felt like it was filled with cotton, all his thoughts slow and sluggish. Crowley stared at his screen, unable to focus, as the minutes ticked by. Finally, while letting out a theatrical groan, Crowley gave up. He slammed his laptop shut and got up, only to collapse face down onto the couch in his living room.

He’d worked from home before, but it had never felt like this. There was a difference between doing it willingly and relishing the extra half hour of sleep he got without his morning commute, and not having a choice in the matter. The walls of his flat suddenly felt so close it was almost suffocating. The whole place felt emptier, quieter. Lonelier.

Crowley rolled on his back, staring at the ceiling. That was the whole point, he thought. He actually missed people. Even Hastur and Ligur, he had to admit with a cringe, and if that thought wasn’t the best sign of his deteriorating sanity he didn’t know what else was. Hastur and Ligur weren’t good company, usually, but they were still company, and in that moment Crowley would’ve preferred that over the emptiness of his flat.

But most of all, he missed Aziraphale. All the little things: the hidden smiles when they passed each other on the corridor and no one was looking. The sneaky glances when Beelzebub and Gabriel were too busy bickering in just another useless meeting. And all the big things as well: spending their lunch breaks together, laughing and chatting, just enjoying each other’s company. The occasional brush of hands, or knees touching under the table, all the small contacts that always seemed to fuel Crowley for weeks. Without Aziraphale, it felt like a piece of himself was missing, and there was nothing but emptiness where his presence used to be.

Crowley let out a groan, pressing his palms against his eyes to will back the tears burning in them. He knew he was being dramatic, but that knowledge didn’t exactly help him to feel better. He hadn’t heard from Aziraphale in weeks. There’d been a couple of email exchanges, in the first two weeks, but that had been work and Aziraphale’s words had always felt too stiff and formal to provide any comfort. He could call him, Crowley mused, but so far their meetings had always resolved around work and he wasn’t sure if crossing that barrier between a work friendship and something more than that was actually welcome. He didn’t dare to try find out, sure that a rejection would only shatter him completely.

Crowley took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. It didn’t help to think about these things. With a sigh, he dragged himself off the couch, forced himself to eat some toast as an early lunch, and got back to work. 

* * *

Things were going smoother this time around. By mid afternoon Crowley was exhausted, but he had finished his tasks for the day. Sighing in relief, he pushed his code to the repository and stretched in his chair. Only one more meeting to get through, and then he’d have the whole weekend ahead of him. Finally time to yell at his plants and maybe go for a drive and wallow in self-pity in peace instead of forcing his uncooperative brain to be productive.

He didn’t feel like testing Beelzebub’s patience any more today, so he logged into the video conference five minutes early. Drumming his fingers on the table, he waited for the others to join, but he wasn’t prepared for Aziraphale’s face suddenly appearing on his screen.

Crowley felt it like a blow, the air knocked out of his lungs in an instant. The video flickered, just for a second as the connection was established, and then he was there. Pudgy cheeks and soft cloud of hair and eyes sparkling as he saw Crowley. Aziraphale smiled brightly and Crowley couldn’t help but smile back. The movement of his muscles felt stiff and foreign after the last few weeks.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale beamed. “My dear, it’s so good to see you.”

“Hi,” Crowley croaked, suddenly at a loss of words.

“I’ve been hoping Beelzebub would get you involved in this,” Aziraphale happily continued, oblivious that Crowley felt close to a heart attack. “I cannot tell you what an utter nuisance it was to deal with Dagon. I’ve-”

Aziraphale abruptly stopped himself as the screen flickered and Beelzebub’s face popped up in the conference. Crowley cringed, his heart clenching painfully in his chest as Aziraphale schooled his bright smile into a more neutral expression.

“Err. Hi.”

“Hello, Crowley. Aziraphale,” Beelzebub buzzed, dark eyes darting over the screen. “Now, where izz Gabriel? Can’t he be on time for once in his life?”

Crowley bit back a sigh, his good mood gone as suddenly as it came. He slouched in his chair, forgetting for a moment that the camera tracked every one of his emotions fluttering over his face. Beelzebub probably didn’t notice, but Aziraphale had always been good at reading him like one of his precious books.

Aziraphale frowned in response. “Are you doing all right in lockdown so far?” he asked, concern creeping into his voice.

“We’re not here to exchange pleasantries,” Beelzebub interrupted before Crowley could even open his mouth. He sat up a little straighter anyway, hoping to soothe Aziraphale worries, but he doubted it would do anything to hide his weariness.

His mood only went downhill, once Gabriel appeared. He half listened to their discussion that quickly turned into bickering, throwing in a sentence here and there about their current project. Otherwise, he was too distracted by the sight of Aziraphale’s face and the aching longing spreading in his gut. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Aziraphale, soaking in all the little expressions on his face. It felt like he’d been drowning and the sight of Aziraphale’s pale blue eyes was the first gasp of air, the relief of finally being able to breathe again.

“Crowley, focus,” Beelzebub hissed at some point, making Crowley jump. Aziraphale frowned again, a deep crease appearing between his eyebrows, and Crowley cursed himself for making him worry. Beelzebub and Gabriel, on the other hand, simply looked annoyed.

“Err, sorry,” Crowley managed to get out. He had no idea what Beelzebub had just said before calling him out. “Can you repeat that?”

Beelzebub repeated their question and Crowley answered dutifully, forcing his scattered thoughts on the actual conversation until eventually everything on the agenda had been discussed. They set up another meeting, and finally, to Crowley’s utter relief, both Gabriel and Beelzebub logged off and he was alone with Aziraphale at last.

For a moment, no one spoke. Crowley took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves and stop squirming under Aziraphale’s attentive eyes.

“How are you doing in lockdown, my dear?” Aziraphale finally asked once again, clearly concerned. “Are you all right?”

Crowley closed his eyes for a moment, contemplating the question. There were so many things he could say. I miss you, he could admit. I don’t think I’m holding it together very well. I’m so lonely it aches, sometimes. If you don’t touch me very soon I might shatter into a thousand little pieces and it’s gonna be a bloody mess. But the words felt too big to be let out just like that, in a blasted video conference, even though it felt like they were tearing Crowley apart on the inside. He opened his eyes to see Aziraphale’s frown deepen.

“I’m bored,” he finally said, after the silence went on for too long, because it was the only thing coming to his mind that wouldn’t leave him with his soul exposed. “So bored. Trenscedentally bored.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale sounded a little taken aback, as if he had expected something entirely else from Crowley. Something more like the truth perhaps, but Crowley was too much of a coward. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I - yeah. Well.” Crowley grimaced at his stuttering. “Nothing to be done about it. At least we’re all in the same boat, with everyone being miserable.”

Aziraphale hesitated for a moment. “I’m not miserable,” he finally said.

“Oh?”

“To be completely honest, I’ve been enjoying the extra time at home. I’ve been catching up on my reading. So many books I’ve wanted to read for years. Oh, and I’ve been making cake!”

Crowley stared at Aziraphale’s face on the screen, struggling to follow the conversation. “... cake?” he finally managed to get out.

“Quite a lot of cake, actually.”

“I’m gonna regret asking, but, uh…”

“Well, all the restaurants and cafés are closed, but I did find a cookbook when I was reshelving some of my collection the other day,” Aziraphale said with gleaming eyes. “And I got peckish. I’ve now made bundt cake, sponge cake, angel’s food cake, and I’m just starting with a sourdough loaf.”

It felt like something cracked inside of Crowley’s chest. The joy in Aziraphale’s voice, the excitement, it was all too much. It stung like boiling water on his skin, that Aziraphale was so happy without Crowley, while Crowley himself was an utter mess. But maybe it would help if he could be near him, just for a short while. Just long enough to soak up some of that joy radiating off Aziraphale, just enough to numb the aching emptiness in his chest. Maybe then Crowley would be able to make it through all this. He took a deep breath and gathered all his courage, even though it felt like his fear would choke him.

“You know, maybe I could, um, slither over sometime,” he started hesitantly, his voice hoarse. “Help you eat all that cake? I mean, we have both been in isolation for weeks now, should be safe, yeah?”

Aziraphale looked utterly taken aback for a moment. His silence was enough to shatter Crowley’s fragile hope. “I- I- I’m afraid that would be breaking all the rules,” Aziraphale finally stammered. “We’re all meant to stay at home.”

“Right,” Crowley muttered. He was so tired, all of a sudden. All he wanted was to lie down and sleep for at least a couple of months, if not a whole century. “Yeah, sure. Listen, I’ve got to go. Bye, angel,” he said in a rush, slamming his laptop shut before Aziraphale had the chance to reply.

Crowley let out a groan before dragging himself to the bedroom and collapsing face down onto the mattress. He fished his phone out of his pocket, turning it on silent and throwing it away from him with enough force that it bounced off the mattress and clattered to the floor. He didn’t bother to pick it up. Instead he just closed his eyes, waiting for sleep that didn’t come.

Slowly, the room grew dark around him. Crowley was drifting between sleep and wakefulness for a long while, not able to escape into unconsciousness properly, but enough to slow down his scattered thoughts and numb his hurt feelings. Night was already approaching by the time Crowley opened his eyes again. His bedroom was nothing but dark silhouettes, only illuminated by an annoyingly bright and insistent flashing coming from somewhere on his floor. With a sigh, Crowley lifted his head enough to see that it was his mobile. He stared at it until the screen turned dark again. For a moment Crowley contemplated just ignoring it to roll over and try falling asleep once more, but eventually he dragged himself out of bed and picked up his phone.

His heart clenched in his chest. Three missed calls from Aziraphale. For a moment, Crowley just dumbly stared at the screen. Maybe he did actually manage to fall asleep, and this was nothing but a torturous dream. But then his screen lit up another time. Crowley took a deep breath and finally picked up.

“Angel,” he said in greeting, not bothering to hide the weariness in his voice.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale breathed out, voice so full of relief that it made something ache in Crowley’s chest. “I’m so glad I finally got through.”

“Sorry. Was taking a nap,” Crowley mumbled. “What do you want?”

The following silence seemed to stretch on for millenia. “You know,” Aziraphale finally started, slowly, carefully, as if every word was so fragile it might break on his lips. “I was thinking. People are still allowed to, ah, spend the lockdown with their… significant other.”

Crowley’s breath caught in his throat. “We’re not… significant others though,” he croaked, because it was true, even though the words felt like acid on his tongue.

“Yes, but… oh, Crowley, I thought I had been quite obvious with my affection for you, and I apologize if that was not the case. I was going to ask you on a date properly first, but given the circumstances… would you still come over? Please? I hate the thought of you all alone in your apartment, my dear.”

There was so much hope, so much affection in Aziraphale’s voice that Crowley had to close his eyes for a moment to will back the tears. “Hunker down together until this is over?” he finally managed to get out.

“Yes. If that’s what you want.”

“Yes,” Crowley breathed out. “Yes, angel, of course. I’m on my way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all doing okay. You can find me at wordsintimeandspace.tumblr.com if you ever want to talk.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the comfort that I promised :) Sending hugs to everyone who is having a hard time right now. 💜

Crowley knew that doing ninety miles an hour in central London was probably a bad idea and would only get him a scolding from Aziraphale, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The streets were deserted anyway as he sped towards Soho. With screeching tires, he finally came to a stop in front of Aziraphale’s place.

He miraculously found a parking spot not too far away, grabbed his bag from the back seat and hurried towards the entrance. He’d thrown together some clothes, toiletries and work things before he left, enough to hunker down with Aziraphale for a while. Hopefully long enough until the worst was over. Crowley’s heart pounded in his chest as he rang the bell. He vaguely noticed how his hands were shaking. It felt like he’d just ran a marathon, his body trembling under the strain, but Crowley pushed through it as Aziraphale buzzed him in and Crowley sprinted up the stairs.

Aziraphale was waiting for him when he reached his floor. He was standing in the door, the light from his hallway illuminating him from behind in a way that made his soft white hair look almost like a halo. Crowley’s breath caught in his throat. Aziraphale looked like an angel, and Crowley had never wanted to fall to his knees in front of him any more than he did now.

Aziraphale’s lips were curled into such a tender smile that it made Crowley’s heart clench, but the smile slipped away as soon as Aziraphale took him in properly.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale started with a frown. “My dear, you look awful.”

Crowley scoffed, still standing at the top of the stairs. Suddenly he was self-conscious, unsure if he should come closer, although every single muscle in his body seemed to quiver under the strain of standing still instead of launching himself at Aziraphale. “Thanks,” he finally muttered. “That’s why I came here, just for the ego boost.”

Aziraphale let out a huff. “That’s not what I mean, you’re still handsome as ever. It’s just… oh, Crowley, please come here.” Aziraphale stepped forward, opening his arms for Crowley, and the last bit of Crowley’s self restraint snapped.

He dropped his bag at once and leaped forward to throw his arms around Aziraphale’s neck. Aziraphale answered without hesitation, wrapping his arms around Crowley’s waist. He held him close, both gently as if he was the most precious thing in the world and firmly as if he never wanted to let go. Crowley let out a shuddering breath, hiding his face in the crook of Aziraphale’s neck as he blinked against the tears burning in his eyes. 

“It’s alright,” Aziraphale whispered in his ear, soft and sweet. “You’re alright, my darling. I’ve got you.”

Crowley desperately tried to stifle the sob that rose in his throat, but it was like a dam had cracked open, the exact same thing that had been gathering fissures for the last few weeks now. Each of Aziraphale’s hushed whispers punched just another hole into it, yanked just another sob out of his chest. Crowley couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down his cheeks any longer. Aziraphale just continued to hold him, soothingly rubbing his back and whispering words of comfort into his ear.

Crowley was only vaguely aware that Aziraphale steered them into his flat, without ever easing his grip. As soon as they made it to the living room Aziraphale sat down on the couch and pulled Crowley into his lap. Crowley followed willingly, curling up against Aziraphale’s chest, letting himself be held until finally the sobs died down. The utter despair he had felt previously was numbed for now, replaced by a fragile calm and a growing feeling of embarrassment. Crowley sniffled one more time, his nose still buried in the crook of Aziraphale’s neck. He didn’t feel up to facing him just yet. But if Aziraphale was bothered by his sudden breakdown he didn’t show it. His ministrations never ceased. He still stroked Crowley’s back and the nape of his neck, occasionally pressing a kiss to the top of Crowley’s head.

“‘M sorry,” Crowley finally croaked when he felt like he couldn’t escape reality any longer.

“Don’t be,” Aziraphale protested. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“Might have ruined your shirt though. Bet it’s all gross now.”

Aziraphale tutted. “Nonsense. And even if you did, it’s hardly more important than you are.”

Crowley closed his eyes against the nearly unbearable gentleness in Aziraphale’s voice. He suddenly wasn’t sure if he could handle this much affection after being starved for it for so long, but he definitely wasn’t going to tell Aziraphale to stop. “I missed you,” he mumbled against Aziraphale’s skin.

Aziraphale pressed another kiss to the top of his head. “I missed you too. And I’m sorry I didn’t realize how hard all this was on you. I should have checked on you way sooner.”

“It’s alright. It’s not that I called you either.”

“No. You could have though.”

“I- I wasn’t sure if it would have really helped,” Crowley admitted. “Hearing your voice without being able to see you. Or touch you.”

“Well. I’m glad you’re here now.”

Crowley’s breath caught in his throat as he recalled their earlier conversation. “Did you mean what you said?” he finally managed to get out, heart pounding hard against his ribs. “About your… affection.”

“Darling, let me look at you,” Aziraphale breathed out, and Crowley didn’t resist as Aziraphale guided both of them to lie on the couch until they were face to face, bodies still pressed together. Aziraphale cupped Crowley’s face in his hands and smiled at him so brightly it was almost blinding.

“There you are,” Aziraphale said, his thumbs brushing away the remaining wetness on Crowley’s cheeks. Crowley still felt like hiding, but he was lost in those pale blue eyes, drinking in the love shining from them, and he couldn’t have looked away even if he’d tried. “And yes, Crowley,” Aziraphale continued, his voice so calm and steady that Crowley never doubted that he spoke the truth. “I meant each and every word.”

Crowley let out a long breath, reaching out to grasp Aziraphale’s wrists. He felt Aziraphale’s pulse throb under his fingertips. “I feel the same, you know,” he finally managed to get out, his voice hoarse, and Aziraphale’s eyes gleamed in response.

“I wasn’t sure, but… oh, I had hoped you would, Crowley.”

“I thought I’d been quite obvious as well,” Crowley mumbled, tilting his head to press a kiss to Aziraphale’s palm. “Guess being around these wankers at work all the time makes it a little hard to get that point across.”

Aziraphale winced at his words.

“What?” Crowley asked.

“Oh, nothing, I’m just... thinking about what Gabriel and Beelzebub would say if they could see us now.”

Crowley let out a huff. “I don’t want to imagine,” he grumbled. “But they couldn’t possibly have anything to complain about. All we’ve been doing has been perfectly innocent.”

The smile was back on Aziraphale’s lips in just an instant. It slowly curled into a smirk, something wicked hidden behind his usual softness. “Would you rather make this a little bit less innocent?” he asked, his voice still even and calm as if his words hadn’t just sent a shiver down Crowley’s spine. “Because I would very much like to kiss you, although I was planning to wait until after I cooked you dinner. Just because we can’t go on a date doesn’t mean we can’t do this properly.”

Crowley snorted. “And then what? Will you kiss me goodnight after and and banish me to the guest room, because that’s the proper thing to do?”

Aziraphale studied him for a long moment before he spoke. “You’re more than welcome to take the guest room, darling, if that’s what you want,” he finally said. “Just because I invited you over doesn’t mean I have any expectations whatsoever in that regard.”

Crowley felt like he should scoff at the coddling, or at least counter Aziraphale’s ridiculous concern with a quip, but he was too busy blinking away the moisture gathering in his eyes and swallowing around the lump in his throat. Instead of speaking, he hid his face in the crook of Aziraphale’s neck all over again, breathing in the comforting scent of his skin. His words were reassuring to hear, Crowley had to admit. But the thought of sleeping in the guest room, away from Aziraphale’s comforting warmth and softness, was almost unbearable. “I don’t think I want to sleep alone,” he admitted eventually.

Aziraphale hummed, pressing a kiss to the top of Crowley’s head. “In that case you’re more than welcome in my bed. Again, I have no expectations. If all you want to do is sleep, I’ll be more than happy to do that with you beside me.”

For a moment, Crowley was at a loss of words. Aziraphale handled him with such care it was nearly overwhelming. He wasn’t sure how to deal with it, except to answer with a joke to hide his vulnerability. “Are you an angel? I mean an actual, proper angel? All with a shining halo and white wings? Do I need to be afraid of your divine wrath if I ever piss you off?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Aziraphale said, without any malice. “I know you went through a difficult time recently, and I simply don’t want to take advantage of you. I don’t want you to think my support comes with any conditions. And…” Aziraphale hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath. “... you did tell me once that you’re asexual. Or, well, on the spectrum. I just thought it might be a delicate topic.”

Crowley felt his cheeks heat up. He hadn’t been sure if Aziraphale remembered - there had been a lot of wine involved on that particular evening, and he’d never brought it up again before now. “Hnk, I- yeah. I am. Demisexual, I mean.”

“Yes. I need you to know I am perfectly fine with that. I would never push you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“I know that, or I wouldn’t be here.”

“Good. I’m glad,” Aziraphale said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of Crowley’s head.

“And, there are a lot of things I’m comfortable with, but, uhh…” Crowley trailed off and gulped around the lump in his throat. He struggled for words for a moment, eventually letting out a groan. “Can we just, not have this conversation right now? I think I went through enough complicated emotions for the day. Give me a break, angel.”

Aziraphale chuckled and raked his fingers through Crowley’s hair, scratching gently. “Of course. Take all the time you need.”

Crowley let out breath. “See, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Angel. Too bloody good for this world.”

“Nonsense,” Aziraphale said, a smile in his voice. “If it reassures you, I don’t think all my thoughts regarding you in my bed are very angelic.”

Crowley laughed. He finally pulled away from the safe hideout that was the crook of Aziraphale’s neck and rolled over until he was hovering over him. “Good,” he said, grinning down at him. “I don’t think I want them to be. You can be an angel and a bit of a bastard at the same time, yeah? Think that would suit you.”

Aziraphale's lips twitched. "Is that a compliment?"

“Highest one there is. And you know what? Fuck doing things proper. Can I kiss you?"

Aziraphale’s eyes shone up at him. “Yes,” he whispered. “Yes, Crowley, _please_.”

It was all the encouragement Crowley needed. With his heart thumping wildly in his chest, he leaned down and finally pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s. 

Crowley felt something uncoil inside of him, at the first gentle touch, at Aziraphale’s soft gasp, at he way he curled a hand into Crowley’s hair to keep him right there. It was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, a pressure eased from his chest so that he was finally able to breathe. Aziraphale’s lips were warm, his body soft against his own, and Crowley never wanted to let go again.

It wasn’t like everything was well, all of a sudden. The state of the world outside still made him want to despair. But Aziraphale’s gentle touches and sweet whispers wrapped around him so tightly that for the first time in weeks, Crowley didn’t feel like he would fall apart any second now. It calmed his nerves, soothed all the raw places inside of him until the hurt was just a faint echo in the background instead an all-consuming ache. And for the moment, Crowley thought as he kissed Aziraphale again and again, that was enough.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluff, and a tiny little bit of smut at the end which you can easily skip if that isn't your kind of thing.
> 
> Also, this will now be 6 chapters instead of 5. I just need a bit more time to resolve the plot properly. :)

When Crowley woke, he felt more rested than he had in a very long time. The bed was warm and comfortable as he snuggled deeper into the blanket. He took a deep breath, and the faint trace of a foreign washing powder on the sheets finally reminded him why exactly he woke feeling rested and comfortable instead of feeling like shit.

He was in Aziraphale’s flat. Not only that, he was in Aziraphale’s _bed_ , and he could feel a warm body pressed right against his shoulder. The sudden closeness after the weeks of isolation made Crowley’s head spin.

At some point last night they had managed to pull apart from their lazy kissing, much too Crowley’s disdain, but Aziraphale had insisted that they should eat some dinner. Afterwards Aziraphale had kissed him again, just like he’d promised he would, and they had stumbled into Aziraphale’s bedroom. For the first time in weeks sleep had claimed Crowley almost instantly, washing over him like a wave as soon as his head had hit the pillow.

Last night, he had been way too exhausted to think about anything else but sleeping, but now Crowley couldn’t help but remember Aziraphale’s kisses, both the soft, gentle ones and the ones that went deeper, more passionate. He remembered Aziraphale’s slowly exploring hands as well, the way his fingers had scraped over his scalp and his palms had pressed against his back where his shirt had ridden up. He wanted to get Aziraphale’s hands back onto his body. Heat coiled low in Crowley’s belly at the thought, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

Crowley wasn’t quite used to this feeling - as much as he enjoyed sex on occasion, he could count the number of people to whom he’d felt this exact kind of attraction to on one hand. If it did occur, especially so early in a new relationship, it was usually overwhelming enough that he didn’t quite know what to do with it.

So instead of rolling over and pressing his hips against Aziraphale’s warm body, chasing for friction, Crowley stayed where he was and simply opened his eyes.

Aziraphale was sitting in bed next to him, thigh pressed against Crowley’s shoulder, a book in his hands and his ridiculous glasses perched on the tip of his nose. He looked over at Crowley immediately, lips curling into a soft smile.

“Good morning, my dear,” he said.

"Morning. How long was I asleep?" Crowley asked with a gravelly voice, blinking against the too bright light streaming through the windows.

"It's half past ten, if that answers your question."

"Ugh.” He ran a hand over his face. “Haven't slept that long in a while."

"Looks like you needed it."

"Mhm." The urge to touch Aziraphale properly finally became overbearing, and Crowley rolled over, slinging an arm over Aziraphale's lap and resting his forehead against his thigh. That he could actually touch Aziraphale now whenever he felt the urge was nothing short of astonishing. He heard paper rustling as Aziraphale set his book aside, and a moment later there was a hand in his hair, scratching gently along his scalp and down to the nape of his neck. A shiver ran down Crowley’s spine and he let out a content hum.

“Did you sleep well?” Aziraphale asked, so gentle and quiet that it nearly lulled Crowley back to sleep.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, closing his eyes as Aziraphale continued to pet his hair. “And you?”

“Wonderfully. It was a pleasure to hold you, darling.”

Crowley let out a strangled sound from the back of his throat, tightening his grip around Aziraphale’s hips. Aziraphale was going to kill him eventually, if he continued to say things like that. Aziraphale chuckled above him, a happy little sound that made Crowley’s heart soar.

"This feels weird," Crowley finally said, as soon as he trusted his own voice again.

"What does, darling?"

"Being happy. When the world outside is still going to shit."

Aziraphale was quiet for a moment. "I know. But there's nothing else we can do."

"Guess not."

"The best we can do is to keep us and others safe by just staying put."

Crowley cracked an eye open, smirking up at Aziraphale. "Staying put, eh? Is that your way of saying that you want to keep me in bed all day, angel?"

Aziraphale laughed again, tightening his grip in Crowley’s hair for just a moment. It was enough to send a shiver down Crowley’s spine. “As tempting as that is, I think breakfast is in order first. I have been watching you sleep for a few hours now and I’m getting a bit peckish.”

“You could have gotten up, you know.”

“And leave you all alone? Absolutely not.”

Reluctantly, Crowley pulled away from Aziraphale. He rolled on his back, looking up to him. Heat rushed to his cheeks. “Look, what happened yesterday doesn’t mean I need supervision 24/7 now,” he said, squirming under Aziraphale’s attentive gaze. “I’m alright, really. No need to coddle me.”

Aziraphale only smiled down at him. "I'm not coddling,” he said softly. “But you've seen my books - I simply like to be careful with things that are precious to me."

Crowley let out a groan and buried his face in his hands. Yep, this was definitely going to kill him. "Fuck, you're a sap. I should have known you're a sap."

“Yes, darling,” Aziraphale said with a chuckle. “I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to that. Come on, breakfast now.”

Crowley didn’t protest as Aziraphale pried his hands away from his face and pulled him out of bed. As soon as they were upright Aziraphale’s arms were around him, soft belly pressed against Crowley’s lanky frame. Their lips slotted together like it was the most natural thing in the world. They got lost in the kiss for a while, quietly exploring each other’s mouths as they held each other close.

Crowley grinned as they eventually pulled apart. “I’m not the breakfast you had in mind, am I?” he asked.

“No, you’re a _menace_ ,” Aziraphale huffed, but he was smiling, so Crowley only snickered as Aziraphale finally ushered him out of the bedroom.

It was terribly domestic, standing in Aziraphale’s kitchen in their pyjamas with sleep rumpled hair, dancing around each other and stealing kisses as Crowley made tea and toast and Aziraphale scrambled eggs in the pan. As soon as they sat down at the table with their plates Crowley realized that he was actually hungry and scarfed down his breakfast in a matter of minutes, while Aziraphale took each bite carefully, savouring the taste, letting out pleased little hums. Crowley smiled to himself, happy to sip his tea and watch Aziraphale eat. It was good that some things didn’t change between them.

“What do you want to do today, my dear?” Aziraphale asked when he was finally done and pushed the plates aside.

“Dunno.” Crowley stretched his arms above his head, wrinkling his nose. “I think I need a shower first.”

Aziraphale regarded him with a careful look and was quiet long enough that Crowley started to squirm in his seat. “You know,” Aziraphale started slowly, reaching for Crowley’s hand that rested between them on the table. “I have a perfectly comfortable bathtub as well.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh?”

Gently, Aziraphale lifted Crowley’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Crowley shivered at the soft caress. “Yes. Would you allow me to run you a bath? Take care of you?”

Crowley’s heart skipped a beat. The notion of Aziraphale wanting to take care of him after Crowley had always been left to fend for himself for as long as he could remember was both exhilarating and completely overwhelming. He suddenly felt achingly vulnerable, sitting there while Aziraphale’s piercing blue eyes never left his face. Aziraphale had always read him like a book, so there was no way Crowley could hide how much he yearned for exactly that. Crowley realized with a start what sort of power Aziraphale held over him. The thought should have been terrifying, maybe, but it only made Crowley’s head swim in the best possible way. Aziraphale could easily use all these things against him, but instead he showed him nothing but love and kindness, offering what Crowley wanted and needed without him even having to ask for it. Crowley let out a shuddering breath.

“Yes, please,” he finally managed to croak out, and was rewarded with a blinding smile on Aziraphale’s lips.

“Wonderful.”

“But I want you to join me,” Crowley blurted out before he could stop himself.

Aziraphale went still. He slowly lowered Crowley’s hand onto the table and Crowley’s stomach dropped. “Crowley, I think we should talk about a few things,” he said with a frown.

“I’m sorry, I-” Crowley stammered, but Aziraphale just went on.

“I did say that you should take all the time you need for this conversation, but I think I need to understand what being demisexual means for you specifically. Just so I know what you’re comfortable with. I don’t want to overstep any boundaries on accident.”

Heat rushed into Crowley’s cheeks. “I- I did not mean it like that, when I asked you to join me,” he spluttered. “I just want to be close to you. Touch you. And I don’t mind being naked around people I trust, or I wouldn’t have asked.”

Aziraphale’s eyes were shining. “I cherish your trust in me,” Aziraphale said softly.

Crowley tore his gaze away from Aziraphale’s face, blushing even deeper. “I’m- yeah. Course I trust you. And, um, I’m generally comfortable with the stuff we’ve been doing. Cuddling. Kissing. Kissing is great. And, um, sexual attraction or not, I still like sex. Just for the record. With, err, the right person. I just need to go slow, sometimes.”

“And do you think I could be the right person?” Aziraphale asked, his voice calm and even. He was really just asking, Crowley realized with a start. There was no expectation, no hidden hope - all the things that could easily make Crowley too uncomfortable to try these things. He let out a long breath and got to his feet, leaning down to Aziraphale to cup his round cheeks in his hands.

“Aziraphale,” he breathed out. “You’re the most right person that has ever existed on this planet.”

Aziraphale’s lips twitched. “And you say I’m the sap.”

Crowley groaned. “You _are_. And you’re already rubbing off on me. You’re a terrible influence, angel.”

“Nonsense. No matter how much you like to pretend otherwise, you’re already sweet all on your own, aren’t you?” Aziraphale asked, his eyes sparkling.

Crowley pulled him closer, burying his nose in Aziraphale’s soft white curls to escape his gaze. “Hnk, yeah, well,” he mumbled. “Maybe. Don’t tell anyone.”

“I would never,” Aziraphale reassured him, wrapping his arms around Crowley’s waist.

“Come on then. Bath now. You don’t want to make empty promises, do you?”

“Of course not. Come along, my dear.”

Aziraphale led him into the bathroom, where Crowley leaned against the sink as he watched Aziraphale fuss first over the temperature of the water and then over his impressive collection of bath supplements. Soon steam was rising in the air, along with the soothing smell of lavender, and Aziraphale stepped away from the tub while he let the water in. He stopped right in front of Crowley, grabbing the hem of Crowley’s shirt.

“Can I take this off?” he asked. As soon as Crowley nodded his consent, Aziraphale pulled the shirt over his head. Crowley shivered as Aziraphale ran his hands down Crowley’s side, and held his breath as they came to a stop on his hips. Aziraphale gave him some time, his thumbs drawing small circles onto Crowley’s skin until finally Crowley relaxed and let out a breath.

Aziraphale smiled. “This as well?” he asked, curling his fingers into the soft fabric of Crowley’s pyjama bottoms.

“Yeah,” Crowley croaked, heart skipping a beat as Aziraphale slid both his pyjamas and his boxers down his hips. Crowley stepped out of them, squirming a little after he was suddenly naked while Aziraphale still had to lose one of his too many layers.

“Beautiful,” Aziraphale breathed out, running his fingers up Crowley’s sides and over his shoulders, pulling him down enough to press a kiss to his lips. “Get into the bath, dear, before you get cold.”

Crowley complied and stepped into the tub, letting out a groan of pleasure as he submerged into the hot water and the pile of bubbles. It was the perfect temperature, and he stretched out in the comfortably large tub, closing his eyes for a second.

“Comfortable?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley opened his eyes again. Aziraphale was still fully dressed, and that just wouldn’t do. “Almost. Strip and get in here, angel.”

Aziraphale blushed at the command, but obediently started on the buttons of his pyjamas. Crowley watched with bated breath as he popped open one button after another, revealing a soft white undershirt. 

“Do you have to stare?” Aziraphale huffed as he slid the shirt off his shoulders and nervously fingered the hem of his undershirt.

“Yes,” Crowley grinned. “Come on, Aziraphale, you can’t possibly be shy now after you just stripped me naked.”

“Fine.” Aziraphale hesitated just a second longer before pulling the shirt over his head. He searched Crowley’s gaze as soon as he sat it down onto the neat pile of clothes, a hint of vulnerability shining in his eyes.

“Angel, you’re _gorgeous_ ,” Crowley reassured him, letting his eyes wander over Aziraphale’s naked torso. And he was, every inch of his skin. His thick arms, his sturdy shoulders, and his soft, round belly with faint stretch marks at his sides that were just begging to be kissed. Crowley filed the thought away for another time.

Aziraphale blushed under Crowley’s gaze. “You really think so?”

“Yes,” Crowley breathed out. “Absolutely breathtaking. Honestly, I might swoon at the sight so you better get in here to make sure I don’t drown.”

“Such a romantic, you are,” Aziraphale said with a roll of his eyes, but he finally complied. He pushed his pyjama bottoms off his hips, folding them neatly before stepping towards the tub. Crowley scooted forward so that Aziraphale could slip into the bath behind him. As soon as he was settled Aziraphale reached out to him, urging Crowley to lie back.

Crowley relaxed against him, breath stuttering as he took in all the sensations.

Hugging and cuddling and kissing, everything they’d been doing since the previous day, had already been great. It had been enough to calm the buzzing under Crowley’s skin that constantly longed for touch. But this was even better. It was glorious: Aziraphale’s naked chest against his back, his thighs bracketing him on either side of his hips, one strong arm wrapped around his belly to keep him snug against Aziraphale while the other hand gently stroked his chest.

“How is this?” Aziraphale asked, his voice low and rumbling in Crowley’s ear. “Comfortable?”

“Yesss,” Crowley hissed, closing his eyes in bliss as Aziraphale’s breath ghosted over his neck.

“Good. I’m glad.”

For a while, they just quietly enjoyed each other’s closeness. Crowley blinked wearily as Aziraphale shifted behind him at some point, and then needed a moment to realize that Aziraphale was holding a washcloth over his chest.

“Allow me?” Aziraphale asked, and Crowley gulped, his heart swelling with affection. He could only nod.

Oh so gently, Aziraphale ran the washcloth over Crowley’s skin. He started with his hands, carefully caressing every finger before moving over his palm and his wrist and finally up his arms. Aziraphale moved to Crowley’s neck, slowly dragging the soft fabric of the washcloth over the sensitive skin there, and Crowley bit his lip to stifle a moan. Aziraphale was still so close, his lips pressed to the side of Crowley’s head just over his ear, that he had no doubt Aziraphale heard it anyway. Aziraphale didn’t seem bothered and only moved on to Crowley’s shoulders at the exact same slow and torturous pace. Crowley’s head was spinning by the time he finally moved down Crowley’s chest. He tried not to squirm in Aziraphale’s grip as he moved the washcloth over his nipples, afraid it would make Aziraphale stop, but he couldn’t suppress the quivering sigh as Aziraphale’s touches wandered down his stomach.

It wasn't necessarily sexual, Crowley mused, the gentle touches intended to provide comfort instead of making him all hot and bothered, but his body didn't seem to get the message. He was throbbing by the time Aziraphale moved the washcloth over Crowley’s hips, carefully avoiding where Crowley wanted him most. A whine escaped Crowley’s lips before he could stop it.

“Darling,” Aziraphale whispered in his ear, tightening his grip around Crowley’s waist. “Do you want me to touch you?”

Despite everything, Crowley couldn’t resist a bit of a quip. “You are touching me,” he gasped. “And it’s great, don’t you dare stop.”

Aziraphale laughed, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “You know what I mean. Do you want me to touch your cock, darling.”

A strangled sound escaped Crowley’s throat as Aziraphale’s words sent a rush of heat through him.

“Or would you rather do it yourself?” Aziraphale continued, his voice low. “Do you want some privacy, or would you let me watch how you bring yourself pleasure?”

Crowley gasped, head swimming with arousal. “No, please. Please touch me,” he begged.

“Will you tell me if you change your mind? Whenever something doesn’t feel good?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Angel, please.” Crowley knew he was whining by now, but he felt like he might combust if he didn’t get Aziraphale’s hand on him right this second. Thankfully, Aziraphale finally took pity on him. A groan escaped Crowley’s lips as Aziraphale wrapped his hand around him.

“You’re beautiful like this,” Aziraphale murmured as he stroked Crowley, slowly and oh so gently. Crowley only barely resisted the urge to buck his hips, trying to get more friction. Aziraphale continued exactly like he had explored the rest of Crowley’s body before: carefully and thoroughly, not changing his unhurried pace until Crowley was panting and squirming in his arms. Only then did he speed up his movements, gripping him tighter, all while murmuring quiet words of praise into Crowley’s ear. Strung up as he was, it didn’t take much more to take Crowley right to the edge.

“Let go, my darling. I’ve got you,” Aziraphale whispered right before he latched his lips onto Crowley’s neck and sucked. Crowley tumbled over the edge as pleasure surged through him, white-hot and blinding. He gasped and shuddered through his release, only vaguely aware of Aziraphale pressing soft kisses to his neck and gently stroking his stomach.

Eventually, Crowley went slack in Aziraphale’s arms as he caught his breath. “Christ, angel,” he finally managed to get out.

Aziraphale chuckled. “Good?” he asked, sounding just a little bit smug.

“Yes. Obviously.” With the last bit of his strength, Crowley turned in Aziraphale’s arms to catch his lips with his. They kissed for a long while, slowly and without hurry, until Crowley couldn’t ignore any longer that Aziraphale was still hard against his hip.

He pulled away from the kiss and reached out for him, but Aziraphale caught his hand and brought it to his lips instead. Gently, he pressed a kiss to Crowley’s knuckles.

“It’s alright,” Aziraphale said quietly, a soft smile on his lips. “That’s for another time, if you want. Rest now, my darling.”

Crowley half-heartedly grumbled a protest, but he _was_ tired, all of a sudden, worn out by the last weeks and the sudden onslaught of emotions since the last day. He collapsed back against Aziraphale’s chest and closed his eyes again, nuzzling into the crook of Aziraphale’s neck. With Aziraphale’s lips pressed to the crown of his head, he let himself be held until the water grew cold.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay - life is busy, and I did hit a bit of a writing slump. I did not expect this story to grow so long! I'll try my best to get the last chapter to you in two weeks. :)

To Crowley, it felt like the weekend passed in a haze. That wasn’t an entirely new experience, but it felt different this time - more like a wonderful dream he never wanted to wake up from instead of the usual anxiety clouding his mind. They filled their time with kisses and cuddles and familiar banter. Aziraphale proudly fed him the leftover angel food cake - Crowley didn’t exactly have a sweet tooth, but the way Aziraphale’s face lit up as he took his first bite was more than worth it. And it was good cake, he had to admit. While they ate their cake, he introduced Aziraphale to Golden Girls, and later Aziraphale read Jane Austen to him while Crowley lounged on the couch, head in Aziraphale’s lap, nearly lulled to sleep by the comforting sound of Aziraphale’s voice. On Sunday Aziraphale taught him how to bake scones, or at least he tried to - they did get distracted somewhere along the way, ending up with flour in unlikely places and a tray of nearly burned scones because Aziraphale was too busy pressing Crowley against the counter and kissing the living daylights out of him. In the evening, when they went for a walk through the quiet streets of London, their hands clasped together between them, Crowley thought that he could happily continue like this for weeks.

But all too soon, Monday morning was there.

Aziraphale’s shrill alarm abruptly pulled Crowley out of sleep. He groaned and blinked an eye open, confused for a second that the room was still plunged into darkness. Aziraphale squirmed in his arms and Crowley reluctantly eased his grip, allowing Aziraphale to reach the alarm clock on his nightstand to turn it off. Before Crowley could complain Aziraphale sank back into his arms. Crowley snuggled closer, burying his nose in Aziraphale’s curls.

“What time is it?” he mumbled sleepily.

“Half past six,” Aziraphale said quietly, wrapping an arm around Crowley.

Crowley let out a groan. “We have flexible working hours in this blasted company and you still get up in the middle of the night?!”

“It’s hardly the middle of the night, darling,” Aziraphale protested. “ And I always have an early meeting with Gabriel. I like some quiet time to read and drink tea before I start my day.”

Crowley grumbled under his breath. “Awful. You’re awful. I don’t know why I like you so much.”

Aziraphale chuckled, pressing a kiss to Crowley’s jaw. “You don’t have to get up yet, darling.”

“Good. Because I’m not going to.”

“You will have to let go of me though,” Aziraphale added after a moment of hesitation. Crowley let out a whine before he could stop it. In front of every other person on this planet he would have been embarrassed, but Aziraphale only laughed softly and pressed a kiss to his forehead as he disentangled himself from Crowley’s arms.

“Go back to sleep. Rest for a while longer, my dear,” Aziraphale whispered, soft and sweet, and Crowley couldn’t help but comply.

Some time later, Crowley woke as Aziraphale cupped the side of his face, stroking his thumb over Crowley’s cheek. Crowley let out a content hum and leaned into the touch, not yet opening his eyes.

“Darling?” Aziraphale asked somewhere above him.

“Hmm?”

“I’ve cleared the desk in the guest room for you. I usually take the kitchen table to work, and I thought it might be best if we don’t work in the same room.”

Crowley finally cracked an eye open. “Too distracting, am I?” he asked with a grin.

Aziraphale huffed. “Nonsense. I just think it would be more convenient for any video conferences we’re having. It wouldn’t do for anyone, especially Gabriel and Beelzebub, to realize that we’re actually in the same room.”

“Um. Yeah. You’re probably right.” Crowley stretched and finally kicked off the blanket to sit up in bed. He wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss. Aziraphale let out a content hum, cupping the nape of Crowley’s neck as he kissed him back, gentle and sweet, but all too soon Aziraphale pulled away.

“I really do have to get to work, my dear,” Aziraphale protested when Crowley tried to chase his lips with his own. With a groan, Crowley finally let him go.

Aziraphale watched him with a soft smile. “Are you awake now?”

“Yeah. Sort of. Don’t look at me like that, I’m getting up,” Crowley grumbled. He stole one more peck to Aziraphale’s lips before ushering him towards the kitchen, and then stumbled into the shower.

It was still quite early by his standards, so he took some time in the shower, letting the warm water pour down on him until he felt awake enough to face the work day. Once done, he shuffled back into the bedroom to find some clothes, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw one of Aziraphale’s white button-up shirts hanging over the back of a chair. Crowley grinned.

A minute later, he sneaked towards the kitchen. He heard the murmur of Aziraphale’s voice and stopped just a second, quietly poking his head around the corner. Aziraphale was sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop in front of him and his back to the wall. The camera caught nothing but the striped wallpaper behind him instead of showing the rest of the room. Crowley smirked. Good.

He sauntered into the room, and Aziraphale froze mid- sentence. His eyes darkened as he took Crowley in, clad in nothing but boxers and Aziraphale’s white shirt that reached down to his mid- thighs. Crowley smirked as Aziraphale’s gaze wandered down his naked legs.

“Aziraphale?” Gabriel said over the speakers. Aziraphale jumped, and Crowley stifled a snicker.

“Oh, so sorry,” Aziraphale stammered, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from Crowley.

“Everything alright?”

“Of course. Apologies.” His eyes flickered back to Crowley as he sauntered towards the coffee machine, just for a second before turning back to his laptop. “I was just saying...”

There was already a pot of freshly brewed coffee waiting for him, and Crowley smiled to himself as he poured himself a cup, only half listening to Aziraphale’s conversation. It was only after he added some milk and let the door of the fridge fall shut that he turned around to watch Aziraphale.

Aziraphale still stared at the laptop, eyes wide, firmly not looking into Crowley’s direction. Gabriel had abruptly stopped speaking - the sounds Crowley had made must’ve been loud enough to be picked up by the mic.

“Is there someone else in your apartment, Aziraphale?” Gabriel asked. Crowley could practically hear the frown on his face.

Aziraphale’s cheeks went pink. “Oh, no, of course not,” he stammered, letting out a nervous laugh.

“What was that sound, then?”

“Um. Just the pipes. The plumbing is a nightmare in this building, let me tell you. Terribly sorry about that.”

With a snicker, Crowley turned away from him, leaning his hip against the counter as he sipped his coffee and looked out of the window, letting the caffeine wake him up properly. Behind him, Aziraphale finished his meeting in a hurry. Suddenly there was the scrape of a chair against the floor, but before Crowley could turn around Aziraphale was pressing against his back, arms wrapped around Crowley’s middle.

“What in Heaven’s name are you wearing?” Aziraphale hissed, his breath hot against Crowley’s neck.

Crowley wriggled in his grip. “You don’t like it?” he grinned.

“I like it so much that I want to get it off you right this second,” Aziraphale growled, latching his lips onto Crowley’s neck. Crowley keened, arching into the touch, his head spinning as Aziraphale slowly popped open one button after another, until finally he could slip his hands beneath the shirt and run his fingers over Crowley’s chest.

“You said I wouldn’t be distracting,” he gasped.

“And you thought you had to prove me wrong?”

“Did it work?”

“Of course it did,” Aziraphale murmured against his skin, pressing his hips more firmly against Crowley’s. Crowley was helpless against the wave of arousal that crashed over him, fueled by every stoke of Aziraphale’s fingers over his chest, every kiss he sucked onto his neck. He groaned and craned his neck, giving Aziraphale better access. Slowly, Aziraphale’s touches wandered lower, until his hands were resting just above the waistband of Crowley’s pants. Crowley held his breath, waiting for the touches to inch closer to where he was hot and throbbing, but suddenly, Aziraphale took a step back. A whine escaped Crowley’s throat at the sudden loss of contact.

“We better get to work,” Aziraphale said, his voice maddeningly calm.

“Bastard,” Crowley gasped, whirling around to see Aziraphale smirk at him. He tried to glare, but he knew he was probably too aroused to get the point across.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Aziraphale said with a happy wiggle, and it took all of Crowley’s self restraint not to snog the smile off his face.

Taking a few deep breaths, Crowley got his body back under control. Maybe be needed another shower - a cold one this time. “You’re the worst,” he finally croaked.

“I believe you started it.”

“Fair enough,” Crowley huffed.

“We can continue this in the evening, if you’re still interested then.”

Crowley groaned. “Don’t say something like that when I’m supposed to have a meeting in fifteen minutes.”

“Apologies,” Aziraphale said with a smile, not sounding sorry at all. He stepped closer to press a quick kiss to Crowley’s lips. “See you later for lunch?”

“Sure,” Crowley grumbled. Reluctantly, he left Aziraphale alone to work.

* * *

Crowley went to put some actual clothes on, choosing a high collar in case the mark Aziraphale had left on his neck would bruise. He tried to banish the feeling of Aziraphale’s lips on his skin from his mind and instead gathered his laptop and shuffled into the guest room.

The room was as stuffed full of books as all the others in Aziraphale’s flat. Aziraphale had clearly dug out both the bed and the desk, leaving piles of books on the floor in addition to the shelves lining the walls. Crowley snorted at the sight, but he also couldn’t stop the fond smile on his lips. He should take it as a compliment, he mused, that Aziraphale would store his precious books on the floor just to make room for him.

He set up his laptop on the desk and caught up on emails before it was time for their daily meeting. He logged into the video conference five minutes early for once, feeling a bit chuffed after his track record of the last weeks until he realized it would mean smalltalk with any co-workers who also happened to be early.

“Err, hi guys,” he said awkwardly as he joined Hastur and Ligur in the conference. It was only when he saw his own video that he realized that he’d made a terrible mistake.

Books. Of course there were books behind him, a whole bloody shelf propped full with them.

He cursed under his breath and blurred his background, but it was already too late. Hastur’s lips curled into an unnerving smile.

“Are that _books_ , Crowley?” he asked. “I thought you don’t read.”

“I don’t,” Crowley lied - he did enjoy the occasional sci-fi novel, but he sneakily read on his phone most of the time. No one needed to know that.

“What’s that in the background, then?” Ligur said, squinting at the screen with a frown. “Where are you anyway? Looks different than last week.”

“Err. Just moved to another room,” Crowley stammered. “You know, to switch things up a little. And the books are just here for decoration.”

“You expect us to believe that?”

Crowley shrugged, trying hard to appear nonchalant even though his pulse was racing. “Where else would I be? We’re in lockdown, for Satan’s sake. Not like I can go anywhere.”

Ligur opened his mouth to reply, but in that moment Beelzebub joined the conference, and he snapped his mouth shut.

“Hi boss,” Hastur said instead. “I think our Crowley here got himself a secret boyfriend.”

“Guys,” Crowley groaned, desperately hoping that the camera wouldn’t pick up the blush rising on his cheeks. “Don’t be ridiculous. Is it so hard to believe that I would own some books?”

Hastur started to speak, but Beelzebub interrupted him by letting out an annoyed buzz.

“Hastur, enough of that. The love life of your co-workers is none of our business,” they hissed. Their dark eyes fixed on Crowley, and he uncomfortably squirmed in his seat, expecting a scolding as well. Instead, Beelzebub’s lips curled into something that was almost a smile. “Crowley. Looks like the weekend did you some good this time.”

Crowley nearly fell out of his chair, but managed to compose himself before too many embarrassing noises could leave his throat. It was a bit unnerving, that Beelzebub would not only notice that he was doing better, but maybe actually _care_.

* * *

Both the meeting and the rest of the morning were uneventful, and Crowley threw himself into his work with a motivation he hadn’t felt in weeks. He barely noticed that noon approached, until he suddenly heard Aziraphale bustle around in the flat. He looked up from his screen for the first time in hours, and noticed only then that his stomach was rumbling. Saving his code, he got up to join Aziraphale for lunch.

He found Aziraphale in the living room, a collection of sandwiches and fruit already assembled on the coffee table. Aziraphale smiled brightly when he entered, and Crowley crossed the room in two long strides until he could collapse on the couch next to Aziraphale.

“Hello, my dear,” Aziraphale murmured, wrapping an arm around Crowley’s back and pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “Did you have a good meeting?”

“No,” Crowley grumbled, snatching a cheese sandwich off the plate and devouring half of it with only one bite. “It was the worst. Your books are ruining my reputation, angel.”

Aziraphale blinked at him, confused, before his lips curled into an amused smile. “Did you say they were your books?”

“I didn’t know how else to explain it!” Crowley exclaimed. “What was I supposed to do? Other than telling the truth, of course.”

Aziraphale was quiet for a while. “You know we can’t do that,” he finally said.

Crowley let his head fall back against the backrest of the couch and let out a sigh. “Can’t we?”

“Workplace relationships are against company policies,” Aziraphale said, nervously wringing his hands in his lap. “Supervisors sometimes turn a blind eye to it, but given how well Gabriel and Beelzebub get along I doubt that we would be so lucky. They could fire us for that. Or… transfer one of us to the branch in Siberia.”

Crowley snorted.

“It’s not funny,” Aziraphale protested with a frown.

“No, I know. I know, you’re right,” Crowley reassured him. He reached for Aziraphale’s hand, giving it a soft squeeze. “I’m sorry. I just sometimes think that being fired would be worth it if it means we could be honest about this.”

Aziraphale’s face softened. “It’s not that I want to hide you. Quite the contrary, if I only could. And maybe it would be worth it, but… oh, I’m not sure. Job hunting is surely a complete nightmare at the moment.”

“Probably,” Crowley mused, wrapping his arms around Aziraphale’s shoulder to pull him into a hug. Aziraphale leaned against him, resting his head against Crowley’s chest.

“I don’t even know what I would do instead,” Aziraphale said quietly. “I’ve been there for so long.”

Crowley grinned against Aziraphale’s soft white curls. “You could always start a bookshop. Got enough books already. You might actually have some space in your flat again.”

Aziraphale stiffened in his embrace. “You can’t possibly be suggesting that I sell any my books.”

Crowley smirked. “A library then?”

“And let other people _touch_ them?” Aziraphale pulled back to look at Crowley, eyes wide in horror. “Absolutely not. Have you ever talked to a librarian about what kind of things people do to their poor books?”

Crowley laughed, and Aziraphale finally relaxed a little. “I’m joking, angel. I would never part you from your beloved books. No need to fuss.”

Aziraphale tried to glare at him, but there was no malice in his gaze. “I do not fuss. That suggestion was simply ridiculous. I’m not asking you to sell any of your plants, am I?”

Crowley let out a hum. “Been thinking about it, to be honest.”

“What?” Aziraphale’s eyes widened.

“Not, like, the plants in my flat,” Crowley rushed to explain. “But opening a nursery, maybe. At some point.”

Aziraphale looked at him with such adoration that Crowley felt heat rise in his cheeks. He reached out to him, cupping Crowley’s face in his hands. “Oh, Crowley, that would be lovely,” Aziraphale said, brushing his thumb over Crowley’s cheek.

“Hnk. Yeah. But, not the right time right now, is it? With, uh, all that’s going on.”

“No, of course not. But there are better times ahead, my darling.”

Crowley let out a breath. “Yeah, I suppose,” he murmured, leaning into Aziraphale’s touch. And when Aziraphale leaned closer to press a soft kiss to his lips, he actually managed to believe that.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience - this took me a while longer than I had anticipated. I hope you're enjoying the conclusion of this story!
> 
> If you want to chat, come find me at wordsintimeandspace.tumblr.com.

Crowley let out a long breath as he logged out of the last video conference of the week and closed his laptop. They had made it. A whole week of hiding and lying and deceiving, and all of it had paid off. They’d managed to keep their secret. Most of the week had gone by smoothly, after their rough start on Monday, but Crowley was still relieved. He hadn’t been able to shake the residual anxiety of being discovered completely, especially since Hastur kept pestering him about his secret boyfriend. Crowley wasn’t sure what pissed him off more - the invasive questions or that Hastur was actually right for once.

A knock on the door made Crowley look up, and he smiled as he took in Aziraphale standing in the doorframe.

“All done?” Aziraphale asked, answering Crowley’s smile with a blinding one of his own, as if they hadn’t seen each other all day instead of spending over an hour in an awkward video conference with Gabriel and Beelzebub earlier.

Crowley nodded and stretched his hands over his head, making his spine pop. “Yeah. Last bits of software testing done, documentation written, project successfully deployed to the client.”

Aziraphale crossed the room to wrap his arms around Crowley’s shoulders, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head. “Very good.”

“How about you?”

“I’m on call for the rest of the day, but unless there’s any problems I’m all ready for the weekend.”

“Good. Do you still want to join me when I stop by my place?”

“Yes. If you’ll have me, that is.”

“ _Angel_.” Crowley glanced up at him, covering Aziraphale’s hands on his shoulders with his own. “Course I do.”

Aziraphale’s eyes were gleaming, filled with tenderness. “Good. Are you hungry? We could order dinner before we leave, or wait until we’re back.”

“Not really,” Crowley admitted. He grinned up at Aziraphale. “You’re still keeping me well fed with all your baked goods. Terrible for my blood sugar, you are.”

“You don’t have to eat them, you know,” Aziraphale scoffed.

“Can’t let them go bad, can I? Would be such a waste of food.”

Aziraphale’s lips twitched. “How kind of you to make this sacrifice. Come on then,” he said as he pulled Crowley to his feet. “Let’s go water your plants before I change my mind.”

* * *

It felt strange, to step back into his dimly lit flat. It had only been a week since he’d been there, but the dark, sparsely furnished corridor was such a stark contrast to Aziraphale’s cluttered and welcoming space that it almost felt like he was entering a stranger’s home instead of his own. Crowley let out a shuddering breath, nervously fiddling with the keys in his hand before stepping aside to let Aziraphale in as well.

The door fell shut behind them with a heavy thud. Quietly, Aziraphale let his gaze wander over the blank walls. “Oh, it’s, err… nice,” he eventually said, but Crowley could see the crease on his face even in the dim light.

Crowley snorted. “No it’s not, you don’t have to pretend. Come on.”

He led Aziraphale through the corridor into the main part of the flat, his steps echoing from the walls. He ignored both the living room and the bedroom as they passed it, mind focused only on the sole thing he had missed during his week at Aziraphale’s place.

The evening sun fell through the high windows of the plant room, painting the room in golden light. Crowley smiled as he took in the comforting sight of his plants and the familiar smell of soil. He held open the door for Aziraphale, gesturing him to step inside first.

“Ohh,” Aziraphale breathed out in wonder as he slowly wandered into the room. “Oh, Crowley, they’re beautiful.”

The praise ran down Crowley’s spine like a shiver. Heat rushed to his cheeks as he took in Aziraphale, his eyes gleaming as sunlight danced over his cheeks. Aziraphale stepped closer to a monstera that grew high towards the ceiling, and brushed his fingers over a leaf with such a gentleness that Crowley felt a short, irrational pang of jealousy.

“They could do better,” he hissed as he stepped at Aziraphale’s side, squinting at the plant. “I see some drooping leaves. I will not _stand_ for drooping leaves.”

“Oh, do be nice to them,” Aziraphale protested. “It’s a hard time for all of us.”

“There are leaf spots, angel. They know exactly what I think about leaf spots.”

Aziraphale tutted. “I’m sure they’re trying their best. Just like we all do. They just need a bit of love and support, and they will be right as rain.”

Crowley felt Aziraphale’s eyes on him, even as he couldn’t bring himself to look at him. Suddenly, he had the unsettling feeling they weren’t just talking about the bloody monstera Aziraphale was still petting. He let out a strangled sound from the back of his throat.

“Water,” he croaked out. “I’ll get some water.” And with that, he grabbed the plant mister and the watering can and stormed out of the room.

Aziraphale was still tending to the plants when he came back, murmuring something under his breath that Crowley couldn’t quite make out. Slowly, he wandered around the room to check on each plant, testing the soil and watering them, searching each leaf for any sign of damage, gently spraying them with water until they were shining in the golden evening light. Most of the plants were in good condition, as lush and beautiful as ever, but a few of them were a little limper than he’d like. He tried to swallow his bad conscience for abandoning them in such a hurry for a whole week.

“I think I’ll have to check on them a little more often,” Crowley said eventually, breaking the companionable silence between them. “Can’t trust these buggers to stay in line without me.”

“You could just move them to my place,” Aziraphale suggested, and Crowley froze in the middle of misting a ficus. He turned to Aziraphale, eyes wide.

“What?” he croaked out.

Aziraphale startled, as if he was only now realizing what he’d said. A blush crept onto his cheeks “I, oh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t just presume,” he stammered. “I just thought, well, that what we’re doing might be a long-term solution. I’m sorry. You don’t have to stay indefinitely of course, I’d understand if you’d want to go back to your flat once they lift some of the restrictions, or even before that-”

“Angel,” Crowley interrupted him. “Why the hell would I want to do that?”

Aziraphale let out a nervous chuckle. “Oh, I don’t know. Not getting on your nerves yet, am I?”

Crowley laughed. “No. Course not. Am I?”

“Definitely not.”

Grinning, Crowley set down the plant mister and stepped closer to Aziraphale. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

Aziraphale huffed. “I was under the impression that I had already done it one week ago.”

Affection bloomed in Crowley’s chest, so sweet it was almost suffocating, and he crossed the last distance between them in two long strides. Cupping Aziraphale’s face in his hands, he pressed his lips down to Aziraphale’s.

Aziraphale’s arms were around his waist in just an instant. He angled his head, making it easier for them to slide their lips together, and let out a happy sigh against Crowley’s lips.

No matter how many times they had kissed over the last week, this kind of contact still sent a thrill through Crowley. He felt utterly and completely addicted to Aziraphale’s gentle touch, to his soft lips and his strong arms around him. Crowley had lost track of how many hours they had spent like this already, kissing just for the kissing’s sake, to be close to each other and to explore each other’s lips, instead of taking it as a first step to something more. Aziraphale had been more than happy to let Crowley set the pace over the week, never pushing, never asking for more, but tonight Crowley craved more contact. Aziraphale’s body suddenly couldn’t be close enough.

Carefully, without ever breaking the kiss, Crowley steered Aziraphale through the room until his back hit the window. Aziraphale let out a gasp of surprise, but readily adjusted his stance so that Crowley could step between his legs and press him against the glass properly. Crowley groaned at the friction, pulling away from Aziraphale’s lips only to pepper kisses along his jaw and down his neck. He was just loosening the bow tie to get better access when he was startled by his phone vibrating in his pocket.

He let out another groan, an exasperated one this time, and pressed his face into the crook of Aziraphale’s neck as he waited for the irritating caller to give up.

“Don’t you want to take this?” Aziraphale asked, sounding slightly out of breath.

“No. Ignore it,” Crowley mumbled, once again tugging at Aziraphale’s bow tie. But as soon as he finally got it off him, they were interrupted by Aziraphale’s shrill ringtone. Crowley startled at the sudden noise, jumping a step back. A pained expression crossed Aziraphale’s face as he pulled his phone from his pocket.

“Let me just turn this off and we can- oh.”

“What?” Crowley frowned as he watched Aziraphale’s face turn white.

“It’s Gabriel. I need to call back.”

Before he could, Crowley’s phone vibrated again. He swore under his breath as he dug it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. His stomach dropped as he saw who it was. Beelzebub.

He raised head to meet Aziraphale’s worried gaze.

“Shit.”

“Do you think they know?” Aziraphale asked, his voice wavering.

“I don’t know,” Crowley admitted, reaching out to squeeze Aziraphale’s hand. “But it’s gonna be okay, angel. We’re in this together, yeah?”

A small smile appeared on Aziraphale’s lips. “Yes. Together,” he said, squeezing Crowley’s hand in return.

* * *

To Crowley’s relief, Gabriel and Beelzebub had not called to confront them both with their fraternizing. Not that it mattered. The alternative didn’t seem much better, Crowley had to admit. Maybe he would be transferred to Siberia after all.

“... not sure yet what the exact problem was, but the setup of our software crashed their entire server,” Gabriel explained, the tension on his face clear even through the small screen and the blurry camera. “It’s all down, even their website. They’re trying to restart the main server right now.”

“I don’t know how that could have happened!” Crowley protested, panic rising in his chest. “We did all the required software tests. Dagon approved my code, for fucks sake. This shouldn’t be possible.”

“It doesn’t matter how,” Beelzebub hissed, making Crowley flinch. He was glad he wasn’t in the same room with them, but their irritation made his skin crawl even from the distance. “It only matters that we find the bug and fix it. And hope there isn’t some irreversible data loss.”

“Don’t they have a backup? Or set up their server permissions properly? Even if there is a problem in the code, they should have security measures to make sure a stupid piece of software doesn’t just melt their whole IT infrastructure.”

“We’re not sure what their internal IT did. We’re trying to get a hold on them,” Aziraphale said. He nervously wrung his hands in front of his belly. “It’s proving to be a little difficult. They’re busy with getting things running again.”

“Even if part of the problem is on their side, it’s still our job to fix this,” Gabriel continued with a pained expression on his face. “This is one of our most important customers. We can’t afford to lose them over this, not in the current economy.”

Crowley groaned, letting his head loll back. “Great. Fucking fantastic.”

“Crowley, calm down,” Beelzebub snapped, glaring at him. “I’m waiting for a call from our system administration to see if they can help, but in the meantime, stop whining and make yourself useful. Double-check the code. Triple-check it, if necessary.”

Crowley took a deep breath. All he wanted was to sink into Aziraphale’s arms, at least for a moment until he felt calm enough to face this mess. But with Gabriel and Beelzebub watching, it didn’t matter that Aziraphale was just in the other room. He might as well be miles away. Aziraphale’s frown grew more and more concerned as Crowley struggled to answer, so he forced himself to put on a brave face.

“Okay,” he breathed out, pulling up the code to get to work. 

Crowley had barely started when the ringtone of a phone sounded over the speaker, the sudden noise making him jump. He switched back to the video conference just in time to see Gabriel snatch up a phone, frowning at the screen. 

The next moments felt like a dream, or a hallucination maybe, so bizarre that Crowley’s brain struggled to keep up and understand what was really happening. He watched as Gabriel let out a sigh. “System administration,” he said, and Crowley had barely time to wonder why they would call Gabriel instead of Beelzebub when both of them reached out at the same time. He couldn’t see the brush of hands, but he doubted he would believe it even if he could. He already struggled to wrap his head around the fact that Beelzebub suddenly had the phone in their hand, picking up before bringing it to their ear.

Crowley stared, his mouth hanging open. He was vaguely aware that Aziraphale stared as well. Beelzebub got up and walked away from the conference as they took the call, shortly appearing in the background of Gabriel’s video before vanishing out of sight. Gabriel seemed unbothered, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

Aziraphale was the first to break the silence. “But- I mean… what? Gabriel?” he stammered.

Gabriel looked up into the camera. “Yes?”

“How- why- I mean… are you two in the same room?”

“Of course.” Gabriel laughed, as if the idea wasn’t just completely bonkers. Crowley still couldn’t bring his face to work properly, let alone form any coherent words. “We have been since lockdown started. Didn’t you notice?”

Aziraphale only gaped at him. Crowley finally managed to regain control of his features and snapped his mouth shut. “But… you hate each other,” he exclaimed after Gabriel didn’t elaborate.

Gabriel shrugged. “Well. Only sometimes. Not generally.”

“Then what is this… this thing,” Crowley protested, gesturing wildly in an attempt to encompass the peculiarity that was Gabriel and Beelzebub. “Whatever it is that you’re usually doing? That thing where you look like you want to tear each other apart in every single meeting?”

“Oh, that’s nothing serious.” Gabriel shot them a toothy smile and, to Crowley’s utter horror, winked at them. “A little workplace rivalry can do wonders to keep a relationship exciting, let me tell you.”

“Relationship?!” Aziraphale cried out, suddenly thrown out of his stupor.

Gabriel let out an exasperated sigh. “Why do you think we’re spending lockdown together, Aziraphale?”

“But… relationships in the company are forbidden! It says so in the policies!” Aziraphale protested.

“That only applies to an employee and their supervisor within the same department. You know, to prevent any abuse of power. Have you actually read the policies?”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to reply, but snapped it shut before any sound left his throat. All the colour drained from his face.

Crowley could only stare at him. He had never bothered to read the blasted policies. He’d always taken Aziraphale’s word for it. “You haven’t?! Honestly?” he snapped before he could stop himself.

“I thought you did!” Aziraphale cried. ”It was you who brought it up the first time, wasn’t it?”

“No! Definitely wasn’t me!” Crowley yelled. Only then, in the silence that followed, did he realize what they’d just admitted. His heart skipped a beat, his stomach twisting in anxiety, but instead of looking surprised, or angry even, Gabriel only laughed.

“You thought this was forbidden? Really? Is that why you’re pretending you’re not in the same place?”

“We’re not, we’re-” Crowley stammered, at a loss of words. Heat rushed to his cheeks. “You knew?!”

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are. Not with the way you’ve both been looking at each other for months.”

“But… you could have told us!” Aziraphale protested, the colour slowly returning to his face.

Gabriel barked out another laugh. “What, and disturb whatever Romeo and Juliet reenactment you had going on? Please. It kept the office entertained and the attention away from Bee and me. Do you know there’s a betting pool on when you’ll finally get together? I think I’m about to win fifty quid.”

Crowley sagged in his chair, not sure what else to say. Aziraphale seemed at a loss of words as well. They were both saved from coming up with a response when Beelzebub suddenly reappeared.

Beelzebub took in the awkward silence and Gabriel’s amused smile. “What happened?” they buzzed.

“Nothing,” Crowley said quickly, not very keen to discuss their relationship any further. “What did they say?”

Beelzebub blinked, not looking convinced, but didn’t press the issue. “The system administration people had a look at the logs, and they think it was a problem with how computing resources were allocated on the client’s system, together with a memory leak caused by a different program. The setup of our software was just the last straw for their already overwhelmed system. They’re sending someone over to help sort this out.”

Crowley let out a long breath. “Nothing wrong with our software, then?”

“Probably not,” Beelzebub buzzed, before fixing Crowley with another stern glare. “I still want another code review before they try to set it up again. But that can wait until next week.”

They finally said their goodbyes, both Crowley and Aziraphale still quiet and trying to avoid Gabriel’s smug smile. As soon as he had closed the video conference, Crowley sagged in his chair. He felt tired, all of a sudden, and angry, just a little bit, that all this worrying had been for nothing. But most of all he felt relief. He got to his feet on shaking legs to get to the kitchen, only to run into Aziraphale right in the corridor. They silently looked at each other for a moment before Crowley lunged forward.

“I’m mad at you,” he groaned, even as he buried his face in the crook of Aziraphale’s neck and wrapped his arms around his waist. “Honestly. I can’t believe you.”

Aziraphale held him close, his arms around Crowley’s shoulders and his nose pressed into his hair. “It was both our fault, really.”

“Was it?! You honestly expected _me_ to read the blasted policies?”

“Yes. Well.” Aziraphale cleared his throat. “You could at least have double-checked what I was saying.”

Crowley only grumbled in response.

“Crowley, do you realize what this means?”

“What?”

Aziraphale pulled back, enough to cup Crowley’s face in his hands and kiss him long and deep before speaking. “We’re free to be together in any way we want to, without consequences, without repercussions. I can talk about you, call you my partner, without worrying who might hear. I get to hold your hand, and I get to kiss you, without worrying who might see. I don’t have to hide my affection. I could tell the whole world how much I love you.”

Crowley’s breath hitched. Tears burned in his eyes as he held Aziraphale’s gaze, drowning in his gleaming eyes, oh so blue and filled to the brim with affection. “I love you too,” he croaked out, and Aziraphale’s answering smile was bright like a star. He pressed his lips back down onto Crowley’s, passionate and hungry in a way that made Crowley’s head swim. For a second Crowley feared his legs would give out, but Aziraphale held him close, held him upright, just like he had done over the past week after it had felt like Crowley’s entire world had crumbled around him.

“Angel?” he murmured between kisses, as they slowly moved towards the bedroom.

“Yes, my darling?” Aziraphale purred as he led Crowley inside, coming to a stop beside the bed.

“I’m just- I’m just so glad you’re here,” Crowley gasped. “That I’m not alone anymore in all this mess.“

“Like you said earlier, we’re in this together, ” Aziraphale said softly, smiling brightly as he steered Crowley down onto the mattress. And Crowley let himself fall, closing his eyes, knowing that he would be caught, would be taken care of.


End file.
